


Just one more night

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [41]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon deviation, Deviates at 8x4, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Season 8, The goodbye that never should have been
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 16:33:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19023730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: Jaime plans to sneak away at night, but fate has something else in store for him...





	Just one more night

**Author's Note:**

> Written on an impulse as usual because patience is a virtue I sorely lack :)

Not often did Jaime stumble upon a predicament as vexing as the one that had been troubling him since the arrival of that fateful letter from King’s Landing. What was he supposed to choose if his heart defied his brain? How was he to deal with the consequences if doing the right thing conflicted with what he desired? Was taking the right path more important than his love? While logic definitely pushed him towards it, his heart refused to agree. And that was why, for the first time in his life, he’d made up his mind to ignore the pangs of his heart, to do his duty and walk the road where thorns would cut through him, for seeking the comforting confines of the bed of roses in the arms of the woman he loved went against his sense of responsibility.

It was with this horrible feeling in his chest that he’d dragged himself out of Brienne’s bed, hoping to disappear into the dark before she could wake. Apprehensive of facing her with his decision, he was worried that he might make matters worse if he revealed the true intention of his departure. If he absconded without an explanation, she’d perhaps assume the worst and hate him for being an arsehole who slept with her and left her for the woman whose bed he’d once warmed. And that was fine. Better to be judged hardhearted than inflicting the truth upon her and endangering her life.

But fate seemed to have other plans in store for him.

“Jaime,” came her soft, sleepy voice, threatening to send his carefully built resolve crumbling to pieces.

He stiffened as Brienne got out of bed, yawning, his mind working furiously to come up with excuses to put her off. His hand shaking, he continued donning his shirt, fighting to keep his eyes off her naked body as she covered herself with her robe. The next instant, she was by his side. “You’re leaving.” It was an observation, perhaps a resignation to the fate that awaited her, not a question or a request for him to stay back.

“I have to,” he pushed himself to say, still struggling with his shirt while taking care not to look her in the eye. Those eyes had it in them to melt him, to persuade him to give up everything and seek solace in her arms, for she was the only one in the world he’d bend the knee to in every way possible. Her intervention was the last thing he needed. She was the ultimate and irresistible hindrance if he had any inclination to go on with his plan.

“Look at me, Jaime,” she said, her voice bearing a strange calm to it. He knew Brienne too well. Composed on the outside, she wouldn’t shed a tear in front of the world no matter how broken she was. She was like a rock on the outside, but deep down, he was the only one who knew how vulnerable she was. Her moist blue eyes and her wobbling chin were not something he could turn a blind eye to. They had the capacity to break down every impregnable iron curtain he chose to put up to keep her at bay.

That’s why he didn’t look at her, he dared not.

“Jaime,” she called out again, and tugged at his arm.

This time, he compelled himself to look into her eyes. “Don’t stop me, Brienne,” he pleaded, hoping she wouldn’t insist on anything he couldn’t bring himself to resist. She’d just have to say once and he’d put aside everything to spend the rest of his life by her side. But that wasn’t what life demanded of him today, that wasn’t a privilege he had the right to enjoy, Brienne’s love wasn’t one that he deserved. To atone for the sins of his past, he’d have to face Cersei’s wrath, to do what was necessary to make amends for his mistakes, to confront his sister and put right all her wrongs. He gathered all his wits to put up a steely front, to refrain from succumbing to those pretty eyes which always seemed to have the power to tell him what to do.

“Have I not been good enough for you?” she asked sadly, her hands caressing his cheeks as she tilted his face towards her.

“Far from it,” he whispered, fighting not to let his emotions win over him. _I’m not good enough for you!_

Never before had he seen such pain in her eyes. “Then why?”

“She needs me,” he lied, determined to distance her from the truth.

She pressed her lips, her features shadowed by hurt and disappointment. “Do you still love her?”

Jaime gulped, at a loss for how to answer this. No doubt, he loved Cersei as a sister, but Brienne was the one he was in love with. But that wasn’t something he could tell her, not if this was going to be the last he saw of her. “I care for her,” he avoided giving her a precise answer, hoping she’d one day forgive him for what he did.

“You don’t have to do this,” she tried to reason with him, her voice on the verge of breaking.

He shook his head, determined not to fall for her anguish. “I’m sorry, Brienne.”

“They’ll burn the city. You don’t have to die with her,” she begged, her pain-struck voice tugging at his heartstrings, “please, stay with me.”

Heartbroken, he couldn’t help reaching out and stroking her wrist with his thumb. “She’s hateful--”

“--but you’re a good man,” she argued, her soulful eyes tearing through him.

“You think I’m a good man?” he countered feebly, unable to draw away from her. “You’ve known me for years, you know what I’ve done--”

Stubborn as she was, Brienne wasn’t one to give up that easily. “I’ve seen the good in you, Jaime, there’s still honour in you, I’ve seen it.”

This was proving to be more difficult that he’d expected. “All my sins--”

“--are your past. You could have a future, you have me, we could have a life.”

If he stood here one more minute, he’d only end up agonizing her even more. He shook her hand off and was about to walk away when she grabbed his arm. “Leave at dawn,” was the only thing she said.

“I can’t,” he refused, knowing if he returned to her bed he’d never be able to leave again.

“I promise, I won’t stop you in the morning,” she assured him, taking his hand and leading him back to the bed. “Sit down, talk to me, tell me what has been troubling you.”

He found himself doing as she said and she sat beside him, too close for comfort. “There’s nothing left to talk, Brienne,” he cried out, his agitation taking over. When she took his hand, he didn’t resist, he was powerless. “Cersei’s in danger, I have to go back to her. She needs me--”

“--but I love you.”

They’d been together for many days and nights, their feelings for each other unsaid and implicit, the understanding between them silent. This was the first time either of them had said it in as many words. It had an unexpected effect on him, increasing his turmoil and confusion to an unimaginable extent.

“Brienne--”

“I love you, Jaime,” she said again, linking her fingers with his.

Jaime ached to say the same to her, to reciprocate her tender words, but couldn’t bring himself to it. He let himself drown in her eyes instead, allowing her to shift closer to him. “Jaime, please, a few more hours of your company is all I ask--” she implored, her face inches away from his, her scent overpowering him and threatening to knock him senseless.

“Oh, stop looking at me like that!” he growled when she drew closer, incapable of any further resistance. He pulled her into his arms and claimed her lips, kissing her slowly and deeply, all his logic and his resolution to keep off her vanishing into thin air. For a long passionate moment they devoured each other until his sense of duty decided to nudge him into consciousness.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, pulling away at once, “I shouldn’t have done this.”

“You did nothing wrong,” she breathed, “I’m yours, Jaime.”

He didn’t answer but did nothing to stop her either, drawing in a sharp breath when she leaned in and draped her arms around his neck, her lips teasing the corner of his mouth. He was left breathless when her mouth worked its way on his face, her warm breath rustling the hairs of his beard as she left a trail of little kisses across his cheek.

“You’re making this difficult for me, wench,” he made a half-hearted attempt to put her off, his mouth suddenly dry and his voice unintentionally hoarse when her hand slipped to his shirt, attempting to relieve him of it just like their first night together. “You have to let me go now--” The words died on his lips when she nipped at his earlobe, her fingers gently ruffling his hair, sliding down to the nape of his neck and down his shirt. Panting heavily when she caressed his bare back, he grabbed her by the waist and yanked her close, her firm breasts pushing into his chest, aggravating the raging storm inside him. She began kissing her way down his neck, her laboured breathing and the feathery brush of her lips on his skin sending a pleasurable wave of shock between his legs, making matters worse for him.

“Jaime, I won’t stop you, but I love you,” she whispered into his throat, pulling out his golden hand and tossing it on to the other side of the bed. Freeing herself from his embrace, she brought his stump to her lips, placing soft, tender kisses to the tip.

 _I am hers, and she is mine,_ a little voice inside his head told him.

That was the last straw for Jaime. Jerking her head off his hand with more force than necessary, he wrapped his stump around her waist, pulling her close. His fingers were all over her neck and hair and he leaned into her, crushing her lips with his, unable to stand it anymore. Thus began their usual dance of lust. He’d made love to her not many hours ago, but he was hungry for more, aching to be inside her, yearning to taste her like he’d done countless times before. Her soft lips parted under his, a little moan escaping them, inviting him in, telling him it was home and precisely where he was meant to be. His hand wandered freely under her robe, knowing where and how to touch her, how to take her to the edge and watch her crumble to pieces. He reached between her legs, his fingers digging into the rich, hot wetness that was the core of her, his cock throbbing in anticipation as it awaited its turn to bury itself in her warmth. While his lips continued to assault hers, he fucked her with his hand. She was a woman on fire, shivering and gasping and groaning in his arms until she came with a huge cry and his name on her lips, slumping into his arms, her body limp dead-weight.

He took a long, hard look at her when she let go of him. A glimpse of her tousled hair, her disheveled clothes, her heaving chest and swollen lips was enough for him to lose his mind. This had gone beyond his control now. He couldn’t stop it. All he could do was give up, surrender and give himself to her like he had all these glorious nights.

_I am hers, and she is mine..._

“Don’t stop,” she softly encouraged him, as if reading his mind, “not tonight.”

In a clumsy rush, she got rid of his shirt and then his trousers. He tore the robe off her and pushed her on the bed, flinging himself on her, his mouth seeking hers in yet another searing kiss. Once more, his fingers were inside her and she screamed like she’d never screamed before, twitching and squirming under him. With stroke after stroke, her body arched into his, her hard nipples pressing against his chest, inviting his mouth and calling for his attention. When he gave her the last push, it left her clinging on to him in helpless desperation. Watching her climax for the second time took his desire to dizzying heights, her hot sweaty cheeks flaming with the treatment he’d meted out to her body, her eyelids half open as she gazed into his eyes seductively, her hands riding down his back, grabbing and groping every part of him she could reach, each little touch of hers sending his cock into a maddeningly torturous state of arousal.

It took her some time to recover, to calm down after the storm, but when she did, she reached for his balls, stroking his length, driving him blind with lust. She wanted him, this time the real _him._ “Jaime,” she demanded, capturing his lips like a woman starved for ages, ready for another tumultuous ride into the glorious realm of pleasure.

Jaime was in no lesser state of torment. Patience wasn’t a virtue he could boast of, so wasting no further time, he pushed into her. Two or maybe three strokes later, he was deep inside her, burying himself to the hilt, his cock throbbing as her walls tightened around him as did her legs around his hips. He slipped his hand in, fingering her swollen clit, sending her into raptures of pleasure while his hips slapped against hers in one furious thrust after another. He licked and tugged and sucked her nipple, and she bit her lip, whimpering in delight and agony, her nails digging deep into his back. She would, by morning, have added more marks to the ones that already adorned his body thanks to their wild love making routine. Not one to be left behind, he left little bites on her chest and neck, every one of which was a proof that she was his.

_I am hers, and she is mine..._

He kept going, hard and fast, wild and desperate, their hot, sweaty bodies slamming into one another, her cries and his growls now loud enough to awaken the castle.

_I am hers, and she is mine..._

Yes, she was his, and he was hers, in every way but for the vows that accompanied a marriage. They were bound by their swords, their bodies, their minds and their souls.

“Jaime!” Her teeth sank into his collarbone, her body a messy, shaking, sweaty bundle under him when he’d succeeded, yet again, in taking her apart. He went down on her one last time, holding her tight, his mouth finding hers and absorbing her moans as he filled her with his seed, the familiar feeling of completeness and contentment leaving him light-headed and floating in the skies in ecstasy.

_I am hers, and she is mine, from this day until the end of my days..._

The lay there in quiet comfort, breathing in each other’s familiar scents, waiting to gather their strengths to speak again. “Brienne,” he voiced the first word that came to his mind when he rolled off her, the sinking feeling that he had to part with her back inside him, clawing at his insides again.

“I know why you’re leaving,” she said before he could say anything further, slipping into his arms.

He narrowed his brows. “You do?”

“Everything you told me about Cersei was a lie,” she said, but with no sign of anger nor resentment on her face. On the contrary, she looked worried. “You’re going to stop her, to persuade her to surrender, not because--”

“I love you, Brienne,” he admitted, his heart much lighter now that he’d got the words out of it. “I love Cersei too, but only as my sister, my family. I’m partly responsible for what she is today, so it is up to me to set right the wrongs we have done together in the past.”

Her face fell, but she didn’t utter a word in objection. No argument, nor a plea to him to reconsider his decision, no breach of the promise she’d made him some time back.

“I love you so much that I’d lay down the world at your feet if I could, but unfortunately, I’m not blessed enough for a life with you. You have to let me go,” he told her with a heavy heart, pulling her close to his chest and stroking her sweaty hair, “you promised me.”

“I won’t stop you,” she said, “but I’m not staying here either, I’m coming with you--”

He frowned at her, exasperated. “You promised--”

“--not to stop you,” she quipped. “I never said anything about not accompanying you, my dear ser.”

“You can’t,” he objected, but she looked determined and he’d never once won an argument with her.

“I can and I will,” she said mulishly, the Brienne he’d first met taking charge.

“You’ll die--”

“Remember Harrenhal?” she snapped. “You jumped in after me, didn’t you?”

“That was different,” he tried again.

“You need someone to watch your arse,” she went on relentlessly. “If you were in my place, would you have let me ride to my doom while you sat here, twiddling your thumb?”

He fell silent. The wench had him as usual.

“Wherever you go, I’ll be right by your side.” She snuggled into his chest. “You love me, and I love you. If we die, we die together, Jaime, watching each other’s backs like we’ve always done. It couldn’t be any other way for either of us.”

He regarded her for long, then broke into a smile, conceding defeat. “You’re still the stubborn old mule I met years ago, wench.”

“And you’re still the annoying knight who hurls insults at me at the slightest chance,” she teased him back, kissing the tip of his nose.

“But what about your oath to Sansa?” he asked, remembering her sole objective in life.

“You’re going to King’s Landing on behalf of the North, to facilitate her enemy’s surrender. I’m sure Sansa wouldn’t mind if I left her a message explaining our departure.”

“You can come with me,” he consented to her request, unable to sustain the argument anymore, “but on one condition.” When he had become one with her some time back, it had struck him, his inner voice hitting him with it like a bolt out of nowhere. It had to be now. It couldn’t wait any longer. He wanted to do it the first thing in the morning before they left, but he had to ask her first.

Brienne waited for him to speak.

“Marry me, Brienne,” he proposed, planting a kiss to her forehead. “It is you I love, and you, whose arms I wish to die in--”

She pressed her lips to his in a bid to shut him up. “Why speak about death when we have the whole of our life ahead of us?” she gently chided him.

“I am yours, my lady knight, and you are mine--” Jaime finally said the words to the love of his life, sealing his vows with another kiss.

“--from this day, until the end of our days,” she finished, swearing yet another oath, not for Sansa or Catelyn Stark, but for herself and the man she loved, an oath they would both keep until death tore them apart.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and do let me know if you liked it!


End file.
